A Brock and a Hot Place
by Acanthus Addams
Summary: Stuck for hours on the plane to Alola, Misty has nowhere to escape to when a bored Brock's ramblings suddenly take the form of a much feared question. Pokéshipping.


DISCLAIMER: I do not own Pokémon.

I know Pokéshipping Week technically has its own rules, but I always prefer to come up with ideas from scratch. Just a little stocking filler while I work on the next chapter of _Hidden Power_.

This story also marks my first anniversary on this site as Acanthus Addams. On this day in 2018, I published _Pokélibrium_, my first story in seven years and a work I very much enjoyed writing. If you're looking for something fluffy to read this Pokéshipping Week I'd urge you to check it out!

* * *

A Brock and a Hot Place

_**Message sent 9:08am**_

_**To: Lana**_

_**Subject: Re: SUPER SECRET ALOLAN VACATION!**_

_Only 3 hours away now! I'm soooo excited to see everyone again! Hope it's as warm in Alola as the weather forecast says, because I've been looking for an opportunity to break out my new swimsuit. Wait till you see it - it's the cutest!_

_Anyway, Brock's been ogling the air hostess ever since we got on the plane so I'd better get back to supervising him. I'll keep you posted!_

_Love, Misty x_

_**Message received 9:15am**_

_**To: Misty**_

_**Subject: Re: SUPER SECRET ALOLAN VACATION!**_

_Yay! This is gonna be so much fun! And oh, don't worry, it's DEFINITELY swimsuit weather in Alola right now. You'll be fighting the boys off with a stick ;)_

_Haha, sounds like Brock alright. With any luck you'll be able to stamp all that out before he makes too much of a fool of himself this weekend!_

_Lana xxxxxxx_

_PS: Just spoke to __him__ this morning - he doesn't suspect a thing!_

For the last thirty minutes, Misty's eyes had never strayed from her pokégear screen. She scoured every pixel and particle of that tiny display, having read those words so many times that they were practically burnt into her retinas by now. There was little else to do, after all, sandwiched into a window seat for hours on end next to someone who offered her about as much conversation as a magikarp on morphine. Still, the more she skimmed over those seemingly harmless emails, the less she could help overthinking their underlying implications, and try as she might to resist it, she could tell this old habit had already begun to dilute her previous excitement.

Plus, to add insult to injury, the plane wasn't the most peaceful of environments. Somewhere behind her, there was a baby crying relentlessly (because of _course_ there was); in the aisle to her right, an old woman coughed her lungs up at eerily regular intervals, not at all shy about doing so; and to top it all off, Brock's constant chuckling at the magazine he was buried in was getting more intrusive by the minute. In any other setting, she'd be able to block it all out without a problem, but here, with nowhere to run, the poor girl could do nothing but let the riotous dirge clatter around her head:

_Cough, cry, chuckle…cough, cry, chuckle…chuckle, cry, cough…chuckle, cry, cough…_

Her eye twitched every time the cycle repeated. Insanity didn't come much swifter than this.

_Cough, cry, chuckle…cough, cry, chuckle…_

She began to stare at the emergency exit with increasing desperation. Alola surely couldn't be too far of a swim, if that was what it came to…

_Chuckle, cry, cough…chuckle, cry, cough…_

At least one of these 'maestros' she was in her power to put a stop to. Turning to him, only his course hair and tanned jawline were visible around the glossy paper he was glued to, though she could tell from the elevation of his cheek muscles that he was grinning. That, and his imbecilic tittering was kind of a giveaway. He had to have been reading that magazine for over an hour now. Who knew he was so interested in hedge sculpting? And, if she was not mistaken, had he even turned the page this whole time? The furtiveness notwithstanding, Misty might have left her friend to his own peculiar devices were it not for his next few telltale mutterings:

"So beautiful…so graceful…oh, Olivia…"

"Brock," she started as calmly as she could, though not without a deliberate edge. "Remember towards the end of our Johto journey when Ash and I went to that nighttime carnival, and you decided to stay at the pokémon centre?"

"Hmm?" he mumbled, clearly only half-listening.

She closed her eyes to maintain the illusion. "I came back early because of a stomachache, and found you poring over a little blue book – what did you call it again, your 'book of pretty girls'?"

The last phrase drew the startled man's attention like the sound of a gunshot.

"Huh?" he gasped, his typically narrow eyes growing unsettlingly wide. "Why, er, wh-why do you ask? That, erm, sure was a long time ago, hehehe…whatever m-made you think of that?"

Misty ignored his questioning. "And do you remember what happened to said book when I got a hold of it?"

"You…threw it out the window," Brock recalled sheepishly.

"Then?"

"Then you, er, told me you'd shove a qwilfish up my-" he cleared his throat awkwardly, "if you ever caught me with it again…"

Misty nodded her head as her eyes slowly opened. "Now, I'm sure you can imagine how disappointed I'd be if I found out you'd not only kept it after that…" she glared menacingly at her quivering prey, "but had also brought it with you on this very trip."

Brock chuckled nervously as he tried to return to his magazine. "Y-Yeah, wouldn't that be c-crazy…"

Her hand shot out towards him. "Give it to me."

"Give wh-what to you?" His wobbly smile only dug him in deeper. "Oh, th-this? Yeah, there's some p-pretty interesting, er, gardening techniques in here-"

She clenched her teeth. "Now, Brock."

"Misty, I don't know what you're talking ab-"

"I SAID GIVE ME THAT DAMN BOOK RIGHT NOW!"

Brock recoiled as his irate friend lunged towards him, snatching the magazine straight out of his loosened grip. With one light shake, a well-worn blue book dropped from its pages into her lap.

"M-Misty, wait, I c-can explain!" Brock pleaded. She ignored him once again, picking her carry-on bag up off the floor. "D-Don't look on page twenty-eight!"

"I'm not looking at it at all, sicko!" she grimaced as she stuffed the item down to the bottom of the bag.

"Excuse me, but is everything alright here?" an approaching air hostess asked from the aisle. Brock's sullen expression melted away in a nanosecond.

"It is now!" he gushed, taking the dumbfounded young woman's hands in his. "Oh, my dear, how fitting it is that we'd meet thousands of feet in the air, because that's exactly where my heart has been ever since I laid eyes on such enchanting loveliness!"

"Uhhh…" she faltered uncomfortably.

He flashed her a roguish smile. "My name's Brock, but you can call me OWOWOWOW!"

Misty's finger and thumb clamped down hard onto the delusional man's left ear, and with the manoeuvre came the sourest, most paper-thin smile she was capable of. "Sorry, you'll have to excuse my idiot friend here, these high altitudes have a way of making him say things he doesn't mean." Her grip tightened. "Isn't that right, Brock?"

"What? No, I meant every wor- OW, OW, OKAY, Y-YES! This thin air, hehe, it r-really does a number on me! Oww…"

The bewildered air hostess took this as her opportunity to scuttle away, at which point Misty released her captive and crossed her arms angrily. Her orange hair fell across her eyes, and the action of turning her body towards the window was done with far more vulnerability than she had intended. If she'd had even a sliver of her good mood left before this fiasco, it was well and truly gone now. Still, at least it had distracted her from the maddening sounds of the other passengers.

Before all this, it was the aerial view of the ocean that had kept her enraptured. Everything she loved about the water – the deep blue-green hues, the silkiness of the waves, the hypnotic churning patterns – was right there for her to enjoy from the best seat in the house. She could have watched those rolling tides all day…or so she thought. But even that became monotonous after about an hour. Arriving in the tropical Alola region truly couldn't come soon enough.

Brock, meanwhile, aside from tending to his smarting ear, sat watching his younger friend with a kind of enlightened intrigue. Knowing her as well as he did, he was well aware that Misty's famous temper only showed itself on one of two occasions: when she was genuinely angry, or when she needed a way to hide her discomfort. This was most definitely the latter.

"Be right back," he said before standing up and disappearing down the aisle. Minutes later, he slid quietly back into his seat, a cup of piping hot coffee in each of his hands.

"Here," he smiled, tapping the girl on the arm with one of the cups. The warmth of the foamy material against her skin made her shiver, but when she realised what it was, she graciously accepted the small token of generosity, swivelling back around and suddenly looking rather guilty.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking,"_ a nondescript voice sounded over the tannoy. _"Over the next few minutes we will be passing over the Unova region, home of the prestigious Vertress Conference. Out of your left window you can see the beautiful seaside town of Undella at the base of Reversal Mountain, said to be the domain of a fiery pokémon from an old Sinnoh legend…"_

"Sounds like quite a place," Brock observed amicably. "I don't think I appreciated just how far away Unova was back when Ash was on his journey there. Really shows how far he's come, hmm?"

"Yeah," Misty sighed, her slight smile not going unnoticed.

"So, do you wanna tell me what's bothering you?"

The redhead's stomach jolted at the abrupt change of tone. It didn't take a genius to see she wasn't exactly herself, but at the same time she'd hoped not to have been quite this overt about it. When she saw the sincere concern on Brock's face, however, she decided that there was little sense in getting angry with him again.

"It's…nothing, really," she lied. "I guess I'm just kinda tired."

"Well, if you say so," he replied calmly, despite not believing that for a second. The evidence was piling up, and with a quick glance down at Misty's open bag, the perceptive pokémon doctor laid eyes on something that would put his rapidly growing theory to the test.

"Say, is that a new Mini-Misty lure in your bag?"

Misty looked down at her feet, where a sleek, colourful piece of sculpted plastic was poking out of her bag's top compartment. With an internal roll of her eyes, she realised it had likely risen to the surface during her confiscation of Brock's book.

"Er, yeah," she said somewhat meekly, plucking the tiny model of herself out of the bag and examining it. "I made it in case we went fishing this weekend. And, um…"

"Yes?" Brock probed, as if he knew precisely where this was going.

"And I thought I might, well, give it to Ash before we leave…you know, to go with his other one and everything…"

There it was. The meowth was surely out of the bag now. And the blush on her face only confirmed it all the more. Brock clasped his hands together and took in a long breath in preparation for his next words.

"Misty, I hope you don't mind me saying," he began, knowing full well she would, "but you're never going to win Ash's heart just by sending him a whole bunch of fishing lures, you know."

"WHAT?!"

Her entire face burned as red as her hair, and her pupils shrunk to two blue-green pinpricks. The statement played out endlessly in her head, to the point where she hadn't even noticed how suspiciously quiet she had gone.

"Aha, I knew it!" Brock cried triumphantly. "I knew you were nervous this whole time!"

"You're crazy!" she exclaimed. "I'm not nervous! Why would I be n-nervous?!"

The wider his grin became, the more Misty wished her mallet wasn't locked away in the cargo hold. Not that she needed it, realistically – and she very much hoped Brock had the common sense to know that. Judging by his next statement, he clearly did not.

"You know, since we're going to be here for a while yet," he smirked, stroking his chin, "I think it's high time I asked you something once and for all."

Misty stiffened like a board, trembling as though touched by an articuno. He wouldn't dare…

"Whatever it is, I'm not-"

"Oh man, I've been waiting years for this…"

"Brock, I swear to god…"

"Misty Waterflower!" he interrupted in a bright, quizmaster-like timbre. "Are you or are you not in love with Ash Ketchum?"

She'd seen the question coming a mile away, been able to predict his words with startling accuracy. But none of that could have prepared her for actually hearing it spoken out loud. For almost half her life, people had darted around the subject with subtle or not-so-subtle jabs here and there, yet it never went beyond that. No-one had ever asked her outright like this.

The young girl's lip began to quiver. Instead of her usual anger, her gut reaction this time was pure panic, and it made her nauseous beyond belief. She couldn't give him the satisfaction. She had to get out of here…

"I need to go to the bathroom," she blurted out, the blood rushing to her face making her feel quite dizzy. As her luck would have it, however, the instant she stood up, the light above the toilet cubicle at the end of the aisle flashed to life with the word 'engaged'.

_Dammit!_ she screamed in her head. But she wouldn't be beaten that easily.

"I'll just wait outside the door," she muttered, a mere second before another light appeared above their seats.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing some slight turbulence, so if you'll please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened, we'll update you on the situation as soon as we can."_

"Uh-uh, Misty," Brock chuckled as the flustered Misty crashed back down into her seat, her arms crossing in indignance. "There's no running away from it this time!"

Her eyes began to water from the sheer embarrassment. Was this going to go on for the next _two and a half hours_? That emergency exit was starting to look awfully appealing right about now…

"We are NOT having this conversation," she dismissed, her faithful anger returning to her once again.

"It's funny, because a lot of people we've met just think it's a cute idea or something," he continued offhandedly, "but they haven't seen the half of it. They don't know you like I do, and I've got all the evidence I need!"

"I don't want to hear it!" Misty screamed with her hands over her ears like a child.

Bizarrely, Brock fell silent after that, though when Misty looked over at him, she saw him counting on his fingers and whispering to himself like a madman. The sight made her growl under her breath. While far from admitting defeat, perhaps playing him at his own game for now would eventually tire him of this puerile conversation.

"Fine," she snarled, her face still searing. "Do enlighten me."

"Thought you'd never ask!" he grinned, every word further conveying to her just how bored he clearly was. "So, my suspicions were first aroused at Pokémon Tech…"

"Oh, for Mew's sake…"

"Remember Giselle? You couldn't stand her, if memory serves."

"Of course I couldn't! Who could? She was a bratty, manipulative little miltank who thought she was better than everyone just because of her rosy lips and short skirts!"

"Oh, really? Are you sure it wasn't because Ash went all gooey-eyed the second he saw her picture?"

"…"

"I rest my case."

"That wasn't a confirmation, Brock! Don't think you can twist my words just because I'm stuck on this plane with you for the whole morning!"

Brock sat up and adjusted his blue shirt collar. "Oh, we're just getting started! What about Maiden's Peak?"

"What about it?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"You dragged me around the market for an hour and a half trying to find the 'perfect kimono'! Had a certain someone you wanted to impress, did you?"

Misty's face reddened even deeper. "That's ridiculous! It was a festival – of course I wanted to look my best!"

Brock chuckled at the nostalgia of this conversation. "You're consistent with your excuses, Misty, I'll give you that."

"They're not excuses!" she insisted. "You're just seeing what you want to see!"

"I'm not done," he smirked. "Pokémon Tower, Lavender Town. Sound familiar?"

"Yeah I remember it, but what are you…?" Her brow crinkled. "Oh, come on!"

"Quite the display of waterworks over someone you claimed not to even like, don't you think?" Brock crooned with increasing smugness.

"I _didn't_ like him!" she clarified, though not without a slight waver. "Back then he was a total jerk, but that didn't mean I wanted to see him dead on the floor of some haunted old mansion!" She shook her head. "Man, you're really grasping at straws here."

"Only because I haven't got to the _really_ good bits," he chortled.

"I hope you know how pathetic this is making you sound," Misty huffed.

Paying no heed, Brock cleared his throat and cracked his knuckles, something that only reinforced his friend's previous sentiment.

"Okay, so that night when we were at Temacu's mansion," he started, a memory that caused both he and Misty to cringe, "you pulled me aside on the balcony and gave me that whole pep talk in the hopes I'd warm to Temacu. You told me it's a lot easier to like someone who likes you than to like someone who doesn't, and when I asked how you knew that…remember what you said?"

"Are you s-serious?" she replied, her gruff tone all but nullified by one unfortunate falter. "That was six years ago! How am I supposed to remember that?"

"Allow me to jog your memory: you said, '_Um, th-that's…what I've heard'_," he purposely exaggerated in a high-pitched, stuttering voice.

Misty opened her mouth to dispute this, but that very memory came flooding back to her in the same second, and her eyes wandered awkwardly down to the ground.

"That still doesn't mean I was talking about…_him_," she snapped irritably.

"True," he admitted, "but it wouldn't exactly be a stretch of the imagination."

"Alright, I've had enough of this garbage now, so just drop it," Misty groaned, massaging her temple to quell the nascent headache.

"Not so fast, Misty!" Brock laughed, still full of energy. "I haven't even mentioned that song you used to sing at night!"

An uncomfortable sensation rose up from Misty's throat, manifesting itself as a cross between a hiccup and a gasp.

"Ah, bet you thought I didn't know about that, right?" he grinned. "Lovely tune, I must say. Pity he was never awake to hear it."

"It w-wasn't about h-him!" she barked, all of a sudden short of breath. "My sisters used to s-sing me to s-sleep with it!"

"Oh, so I guess you singing the words 'I love you' while looking directly at him was just a coincidence, yes?"

"I…well, y-yes, obviously! And you shouldn't have been eavesdropping!"

"And then there's the jealousy," Brock added. At this point, Misty wasn't even sure if all of this spiel was meant for her anymore. "Oh my god, the jealousy! You nearly tore that poor Macy's arm off when she asked Ash out on a date!"

"Can we please just talk about something else?" she growled angrily.

"Let's not forget Bianca too – or was it Latias? Either way, I could practically feel your blood boiling when she kissed Ash in Alto Mare."

"Th-That's not true!" she cried, despite her blush intensifying.

"But of course, those times are _nothing_ compared to how you were with Melody…"

This comment in particular drew Misty's ire more than others. "Oh no, you are NOT bringing the Orange Islands into this when you weren't even there! How the hell do you even know about that?"

"Tracey's told me the story loads of times. Didn't scrimp on any details, either."

She threw her hands up into the air. "Jeez, is that what you and Tracey do when you meet up? Sit and compare notes on my alleged feelings for Ash? I feel sorry for you guys."

"Hey, we're only trying to help our two young pals along the road to happiness," Brock gushed, reciting the words as if he'd lifted them straight from a book.

"Oh yeah, sure," she snorted. "And you're really gonna believe Tracey here? He's as biased about this as you are!"

"He's not quite as…subtle as me, I'll admit. I heard he even directly accused you two of liking each other once. Rookie mistake, I tell ya! I bet you and Ash beat him senseless for that, eh?"

Misty did indeed remember that occasion, and as Brock had implied, she was none too happy about it. "And what are you doing now if not directly accusing me?" she was quick to point out.

Brock hadn't seen that one coming. "Oh, er, w-well, this doesn't count, because um…just because! Hehe, moving on…"

He ignored his friend's eye rolling and did just that. "Tracey also told me about a gym leader who had a serious thing for you. Rudy, was it?"

Misty said nothing, though her heart had begun to beat wildly.

"From what I heard, he asked you to stay with him on the island. That's basically a proposal, Misty! He was a nice guy with all the money, status, pokémon facilities…hell, he could have given you the whole world on a silver platter, and you _still_ chose Ash over him! Why would you do that?"

This was a question that Misty had also asked herself a lot over the years. By now, she was more than sure of the answer (and more than happy with it), but that was still not for the prying Brock to know.

"I…had my reasons," she muttered enigmatically, which, in Brock's eyes, did not help her case one bit.

"That you did," he nodded. "But you know what? All these little tidbits, these 'hints' if you will, they don't mean anything without considering the crux of yours and Ash's relationship."

"And what is this 'crux' of mine and Ash's relationship, pray tell?" Misty deadpanned acerbically.

Brock chuckled. "You love to get under each other's skin. It's practically what the two of you live for. And, in the immortal words of the exquisite Vermilion City Nurse Joy: when two people fight, they really care about each other."

The redhead remembered that moment too, and she instantly found herself growing as angry as she had back then.

"Brock, I'm warning you, you'd better cut this out now…"

"God, those arguments could go on for days! Sometimes you wouldn't even look at each other, but I _definitely_ caught you peeking over once or twice-"

"I'm _serious_, Brock." She strengthened her already vice-like grip on the armrest.

"And the way you'd move closer to each other with every word you said – if I didn't know better by now, I'd almost think you guys were gonna ki-"

"ALRIGHT, THAT'S ENOUGH!"

Strangely, her outburst was perfectly timed with a judder of the plane against the harsh winds, which more than served to snap Brock out of his tangent. After a long and therapeutic breath, Misty ignored the staring passengers around her and turned back to her stunned friend, her face still bright crimson.

"Are you quite finished? Honestly, with the amount of drivel you talk, you could give my sisters a run for their money! I mean really, is that the best you've got? Everything you said there was either completely subjective or just plain speculation! If you were going to waste my time with this phenomenon you've obviously all put _so_ much thought into, could you not have dug up even one little bit of actual proof?"

As if by fate, Misty's pokégear chose that very moment to vibrate on her lap. The email notification caught Brock's attention, and he quickly managed to skim the handful of small words on the screen before Misty snatched it away in annoyance.

"Well, that right there would definitely be a start."

She had to ask. Hesitantly, Misty brought the device up to eye level, whereupon her mouth fell wide open:

_**Message received 10:03am**_

_**To: Misty**_

_**Subject: Re: SUPER SECRET ALOLAN VACATION!**_

_Soooo…are you going to tell him this time? ;)_

_Lana xxxx_

"I'm hurt, Misty," Brock blubbed with fake sadness. "You tell Lana your deepest, darkest secret before you tell me?"

"I h-haven't told anyone anything!" Misty retorted desperately. "I don't believe this! Lana's just as bad as the rest of you!"

"Guess there's no denying it now," he shrugged. "Face it, Misty, you've got it bad."

"I HAVE NOT!"

"Have too," Brock replied instantly – and the look on his face told the gasping Misty he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Have not!" she spat back. This would certainly be a first.

"Have too!" he played along.

"Have not!"

"Have too!"

"Have not!"

"Have too!"

"HAVE NOT!"

"Ha-"

Brock halted his and Misty's imitation argument (at least, that was what it was for him) as soon as he saw the air hostess return to the aisle beside them.

"This is the second time, sir," she addressed him tiredly. "There are people trying to sleep here. If you and your friend can't keep it down, I'm going to have to separate you."

Before Misty could offer an apology, Brock had lapsed straight back into girl mode, swaying back and forth with hearts in his eyes.

"Do what you must, sweet angel, for it already pains me that fate has separated us until now! Take me with you, and our undying love will pave a pathway through the skies forev- OW, OKAY, S-SORRY!"

The woman huffed, vanishing back down to the cockpit as quickly as she had appeared. Brock winced at the pain in his ear once again, but otherwise fell silent, much to Misty's relief. Inevitably, however, this moment of peace didn't last long.

"Bear in mind, Misty, that whether you say it out loud or not, I already know."

His voice was much different than before; softer, friendlier, and without a trace of smugness. Even so, she was not going to take that lying down.

"Oh, is that so?" she hissed caustically. "Well, genius, if this is already so obvious to you, then why bring it up at all? Just to rub my nose in it?"

He shook his head rapidly. "No, of course not!"

"Then why?"

The twenty-three-year-old shot his younger friend a warm and sincere smile. "Because, if you can't admit it to me, you'll never be able to admit it to Ash."

It took several seconds for Misty to make sense of what had just been said. All this time, the entirety of this harrowing conversation, and she had never thought of it like that. Had Brock been…testing her? And there she was thinking he was just stir crazy and in need of some in-flight entertainment. A sudden feeling of relief overcame her, like a tremendous weight falling off her shoulders. She didn't think she'd live to see it, but on this morning, Brock had truly earned his self-proclaimed Love Master title. For a man with no luck whatsoever in his own pursuits, he sure knew how to advise people with theirs.

"Wait…" she exhaled, slightly delirious. "This was all…"

"Yep."

"When you-"

"Uh-huh."

"Even the part where-"

"All of it, Misty. I just wanted you not to have to be nervous to see your best friend."

Words could not describe the young woman's glee in that very moment. Without thinking, she leaned over and gave the pokémon doctor a tight hug.

"You could have done without the attitude," she giggled, "but thank you, Brock. Really."

"My pleasure, Misty," he replied, returning the short embrace.

In the minutes that followed, neither Brock nor Misty said a word. The former was quite content with what he considered a job well done, but the latter was not so sure her part was quite over. After all this, she owed it to him to be honest – and more than that, she now wanted to be.

"You…promise you won't tell?" she said self-consciously.

Brock turned to her with a somewhat surprised smile. "I promise."

Nodding in appreciation, the young woman wrung her hands in front of her. "Well, er, maybe I've had a kind of, um, crush on him for a while now. Okay, a few years. But that's all it is, just a stupid little crush…"

It was certainly a huge step for her to admit even that, but Brock was not prepared to let her stop there. "Close, but no cigar," he chuckled. "Come on, Misty, I know he means more to you than that. You can tell me."

She sighed. "Fine. I, er…" her voice lowered, "_iluvvim_…"

"Once more," Brock instructed gently. "Take it slowly." The blushing girl breathed deeply.

"…I love him."

Her confession was met with two sets of smiles, one of which she had no idea she would feel creeping onto her face. The wearer of the other looked over with a mixture of pride and elation.

"How'd that feel?"

"Really good," she realised with another smile.

He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Now you're ready."

Somehow, just hearing this felt like a great accomplishment, like reaching an unspoken milestone one step closer to her deepest desires. The floodgates had opened after so long, and, naturally, Misty suddenly felt she had much, much more to say.

"I thought I'd ruin this trip by being so nervous," she mused aloud, "but now…I don't feel afraid anymore. I guess I…" – her head drooped – "always convinced myself I didn't have a chance, you know?"

Though ecstatic that he had managed to get through to Misty, Brock was still amazed by this unprecedented level of openness, and to hear her finally admit these things was truly touching.

"To be fair, Ash has always been hard to read when it comes to romance," he stated sympathetically, "but this much I know, Misty: if you don't have a chance with him, then there's not a single soul on this earth who does."

Now it was Misty's turn to be touched. For the briefest of moments, she even thought she might break down in tears. No-one could ever know quite how reassuring that notion was to her, and for once, the fluttering feeling in her chest was more than welcome.

After another few minutes, the turbulence outside had subsided, and the passengers were free to leave their seats again. But Misty no longer felt the need to escape. Here, she was comfortable; here, she was at peace; and now, she could actually look forward to this vacation she had been waiting so long for. That was, once she ironed out a sudden niggling thought.

"Brock?"

"Yeah?"

She bent down to pick her gleaming Mini-Misty back up. "What do you think I should do with this now?"

Brock thought for a moment, then clicked his fingers. "Why don't you give it to Lana? You sound like you've become quite good friends, and you both love water pokémon so I'm sure she'd love to have an official Misty lure of her own."

Misty beamed instantly. "Yeah, that's a great idea, Brock! Only…" her smile faded, "now I've got no gift to give to Ash."

Like before, her wise older friend looked her straight in the eye with an expression of complete understanding.

"You don't have to worry about that, Misty. Trust me, you just being there is the greatest gift he could ask for."

"You really think so?" she asked, redness licking at her cheeks.

"I know so. After all, he's gotta be craving a nice juicy argument by now, right?"

The young girl shook her head in exasperation, but laughed all the same. Indeed, it would be nice to get stuck into a good fight with Ash like old times. She was sure she wouldn't have to look far for a reason to start one up.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, we are now approaching the last quarter of our journey. It is now 10:32am; ETA to Alola is one hour, twenty-five minutes. Once again, we'd like to thank you for flying Air Kanto."_

_Not long now_, Misty thought to herself with a pleasant leap of her heart. This was the home stretch; soon enough, she'd feel the warm Alolan sand beneath her feet, envelop herself in the crystal-clear waters, and, most importantly, catch up with new and old friends alike. Maybe Lana would even get an answer to her candid email…

"There is one thing I'm kind of curious about, though," Brock spoke up after a long period of silence.

"Oh?" She turned to face him.

"That's a hibiscus flower in your hair, isn't it?"

Misty's left arm reached up to her head, where a soft, reddish flower was pinned gently to her ponytail.

"Erm, yeah. Why?" she asked, though she had a feeling she already knew.

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but I always thought it was tradition for single women to wear a hibiscus on the right side, not the left. Since I'm guessing you don't have some secret beau in Cerulean City I'm not aware of, I can only assume you've done it this way to make it clear that Ash has you, ahem…" he smirked, "booked. Is that right?"

Perhaps it was the period of quiet beforehand, or perhaps it was the return of his infuriating smugness, but this last remark was a prominent reminder for Misty that she was thoroughly over this conversation. With a growl of humiliation, the redhead dove forward into her bag and writhed out the object that had started this whole bothersome train of thought.

"Here," she huffed, thrusting the accursed book roughly into Brock's hands and turning to the window. "Next time I'll leave well enough alone."


End file.
